Times Forever Frozen Still
by guessthisismypenname
Summary: "He had to live, he had to go back. Walking away couldn't be the last memory that he gave her, he just couldn't." Inspired by Ed Sheeran's photograph.


**Loosely based on Ed Sheeran's song Photograph.**

She was right to call him a coward. He had been enraged, and wracked with guilt when he had walked out of his and Hermione's cosy little flat over a week ago. A vase narrowly missed his head as he'd slammed the door. He winced slightly as he remembered the sound of the ceramic breaking into bits, but what had struck him more deeply was the single anguished sob he'd heard just as he apparated away. It was the Horcrux hunt all over again. And he couldn't immediately go back to her this time either, he had bloody job to get to. But he knew it was only an excuse. He was a coward.

Like most of their quarrels, this one began over nothing at all. Or so he had thought at the time. And it had escalated quickly until Ron know longer even knew what they were talking about. _That_ , it seemed, was the problem. He barely remembered the words they had hurled at each other, only the hurt in her eyes. The mere memory of it was enough to make it feel as though he had taken a punch to the gut. Except he really had. Taken a punch to the gut, that is. And several other places on his body.

Doubled over, he tried to focus on the death eater in front of him, to no avail. Pain clouded his mind and he squeezed his eyes shut, struggling to will it away. He was afraid he was going to blackout any moment now, but he just couldn't have that. He had to live, he had to go back. Walking away couldn't be the last memory that he gave her, he just couldn't.

Ron determinedly got off his knees even as he continued to cough up blood. They had both lost their wands a long time ago, and this particular bloke, Sutherland, seemed to have it out for him anyway. There was a demented look in his eyes as he attacked him.

Another punch and Ron fell to the ground again. The deluminator that he had been incessantly and restlessly clicking for the past week along with the photograph of Hermione he always carried with him fell out of his pocket. The deluminator skidded across the marble floor and he yelled out before he could stop himself.

As Ron reached his hand out towards it, the Death Eater stepped on his hand and ground down on it. He groaned in agony as the man snickered in glee.

"Tsk, tsk. We've got all the intel on your little device, Weasley. If you think it's going to be so easy to run back to your little girlfriend with your tail between your legs, think again," he spat.

"Oh, and what's this?" he sneered as he picked up the photograph, crushing his hand even further as he did so. "Well well well, got yourself a nice one, Weasley. Not bad for a _mudblood_ , eh? Might have a go at her meself once I'm done with you."

It was that heinous word, more than anything that snapped something in Ron. He no longer cared about trivial things like protocol and apprehending him alive like he'd been commanded to. It was sheer will that made him snatch his hand out from under Sutherland's foot and raise himself up from the dusty floor and advance on the lout like a damn hippogriff.

Tackling him to the floor, and throwing kicks and punches with great zeal, Ron couldn't help but think that now he must be the one with the crazed expression on his face. The only thing on his mind was _her_.

And it wasn't long before the death eater's wheezes died down and his breathing stopped. But it was a long time before Ron stopped pummeling him. It was only exhaustion that made him cease hitting his bloodied face. That, and the return of feeling to his body. While his single-minded zeal still had a hold on him, he had felt almost numb, the pain a distant thought. But now, it returned to him full force and he gasped and let out raspy breaths as he limped to the deluminator.

He stumbled several times as he made his way over to little green object. He had lost too much blood and he was fading, and shite, shite, _shite_ , he had to get home to her. She had to know what she meant to him. She _had_ to. There were a million things he had to say to her, a million things left to do and fuck, he was going to go back to her if that was the last thing that he did.

As he finally, _finally_ , he made it, he fervently grabbed the deluminator. Clicking it, he let the floating orb of light lead him back to her. Back to the living room, where he'd left her crying on the floor. Back into waiting, shaking arms that wound around him as soon as he appeared. Overwhelming relief washed over him as he took in her wild curls, red eyes and frantic words, and he finally let himself fall with a faint smile on his face.


End file.
